(Friday, January 31, 2025)
Today I have a small memory of a dream where I sit up in bed and say, rather loudly, “I’m not dreaming.”
I am experiencing nothing more than tiny dream fragments since moving out of my upper bedroom and since Cullan and Hillary have separated. Lots of stress and sorrow. I am sleeping well, but I get up early (4 or 5 am) to not arouse Chris from his long morning sleep.
I am at Shady Oak. I hear the doorbell at 6:30 p.m. I am upstairs. I go downstairs and open the door. No one is there. I talk to my eight and ten year old girls and tell them if they hear the doorbell to not open the door or do outside. Earlier I read about a predatory priest. I see lights from a car coming down the driveway.
Later I talk to the girls. I find out that my eight year old did go outside and talk to the priest who was in his car. I tell her to never do that again.
On January 11th I had a dream about protecting my baby. I am not sure why this is coming up now. Nothing seems to be triggering protection from my waking life. I do remember when I was 8 years old, I had touched the host during communion to stop it from falling off of my tongue. After mass (this is with all the students on a week day), the priest came down the aisle asking who touched the host. I raised my hand and had to walk across the pew and have him wipe my hands. That day at school, during lunch time in the cafeteria, I got a lot of teasing. I was a very shy, sensitive kid and that was hard for me!
When I arrived home from my Mayo visit on Thursday afternoon, I rested on my blue velvet couch. Suddenly I had the sensation of transitioning from physical life. The feeling was so strong that tears came to my eyes, which rarely happens for me at this stage in my life. Grief, but not horror. Awareness of my upcoming travel across the bridge, to the other side.
